Tag: julie forget

You are in a dark manor, deep in a thick wood, in the black of night. Stumbling through the maze of hallways you find yourself in a great, cavernous chamber. Distraught, swaying as the looming darkness closes in, you feel the end is near. There is a reprieve, the dark clouds scatter and an eerie calm sets in. For a moment there is euphoria, before you are consumed by the night.

If you burn it all down something else is bound to sprout from the ashes. There’s an inherent lightness in the new, but time and experience always bring change. Here the stretch from lo-fi to deranged manifests in both the tone and the theme; warbled like fresh tape into pure hiss. Eager to please pop songs Jekyll-and-Hyde into the sound of lurkers outside your windows. Two-faced like their city that seeds so manygreatbands: supportive and fun but shadowed by that cloud-and-rain induced darkside vibe.

Teenanger’s E P L P espouses crunchy, raspy guitars and bratty vocals that are as catchy as they are sneering. One stomp on the fuzz pedal and a swig of warm beer and everybody is ready to fucking lose it to these Toronto city slickers. These jams carry a raucous sense of abandon that remind you that it would have been a good idea to do more drugs in high school while your responsibilities were still non-existent. But you remember that you weren’t cool enough then. In fact, no one was.

The Freaks have never let me down. Beer. Blood. Sweat. Tears. Ponchos. Mayhem in underground parking garages. They party like maniacs and bring an energy everywhere they go. Their music hits hard and carries with it everything they are. No exceptions. Hosehead did a killer job in picking up this three-song banger of a 7”.

Somewhere, there’s a stygian discotheque that plays Robert Loveless ad infinitum. On Domino, Loveless sounds like he’s been hangin’ with the no-goodniks on the wrong side of the harbour. Warped 45-soul gets sleazy with manipulated grooves. This one’s another diamond in Halifax’s kimberlitepipe.

Maybe we should all live in a delusional dream like the one Alex Calder proposes. Or maybe he really is born in another time. A time where bodies walked freely through psychedelic soundwaves. Listening to this album is like living in a utopian place where a warm voice guides us along its unknown paths. A journey enriched by layers of mellifluous synths that forge new realities where our minds inevitably wander. A psychotherapy session shaped on tape. No need for divans, just dance, dance, dance, and in the end what remains is pure joy.

The spirit of the jungle is a harmony that manifests in pluralistic conflict. As RAMZi pulls us below the canopy, the peace of chlorophyllic homogeneity gives way to alien discombobulation. The bébites scamper along the cold, damp earth, screeching in perpetual cacophony. This is the language of war and sex. Peace, for the bébites, is inexpressible. It is only through the polyglot mediation of RAMZi that their cacophony becomes euphony. As such, the meaningful substance of Bébites becomes apparent in its constituent sonic organisms. To bounce with the bébites is to see the unity of the jungle in all of its beautiful disarray.

Lamentations embodies a strange contradiction: despite the meticulous nature of the sounds contained within, the album maintains a distinct sense of immediacy that allows for devastating emotional impact. Recorded after the death of the artist’s father, Lamentations is a reflection of the grieving process that soon followed. The sounds here are razor sharp and microscopically detailed, and over the course of an hour they undergo a kind of sonic vivisection as both the instruments and the artist are pushed to their absolute extremes. The effect is almost maddening, but ultimately Lamentations succeeds, effectively capturing the process of grief and recovery in the wake of immense personal loss.

Lamentations embodies a strange contradiction: despite the meticulous nature of the sounds contained within, the album maintains a distinct sense of immediacy that allows for devastating emotional impact. Recorded after the death of the artist’s father, Lamentations is a reflection of the grieving process that soon followed. The sounds here are razor sharp and microscopically detailed, and over the course of an hour they undergo a kind of sonic vivisection as both the instruments and the artist are pushed to their absolute extremes. The effect is almost maddening, but ultimately Lamentations succeeds, effectively capturing the process of grief and recovery in the wake of immense personal loss.

The Pygmies’ newest release is a mesmerizing set of tracks that get inside your mind, tinker around, and leave you dancing. Clean snare snaps break through layered instrumentation in energetic leaps. Thoughts ride on the clean bass and guitar, exploring new sonic spaces glued by smooth vocals and sweeping organ. The effect is total mind control: foot tapping leads extended to full-blown body moving.

The Pygmies’ newest release is a mesmerizing set of tracks that get inside your mind, tinker around, and leave you dancing. Clean snare snaps break through layered instrumentation in energetic leaps. Thoughts ride on the clean bass and guitar, exploring new sonic spaces glued by smooth vocals and sweeping organ. The effect is total mind control: foot tapping leads extended to full-blown body moving.